Nevermore
by Stangelina
Summary: When Stan devotes all of his attention to a new girl, Kyle falls into a deep pit of depression. When it all seems hopeless, there is only one thing that can pull him out of the darkness... / STYLE, YAOI, RATING NOW M FOR SEXUAL CONTENT.
1. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

**A/N- **OMGOMGOMG THANK U TO EVERY1 WHO REVIEWS MY OTHER FIC, YOU HELPED ME THROUGH A VERY VERY HARD TIME IN MY LIFE. I take your reviews in to consideration and im going to not use the capitals for all the words. but now i write the fic that is inspired by my hard times. and as u may or may not know i was a cutter at one point because of what i was going through and i also tried to kill myself but im a lot better now. so i know what it feels like to have that emotions and i can put it into fic and make it powerful and strong. maby this fic too will help u with your problems and make you relise that going through the things is not the end, and cuting will only hurt your self and give you the scars on your arms, caused by years of trama and using sharp objects like razor blades and kitchen knives and even wire coat hangers if your desperate enough, it's really bad. and then how kiling urself isnt the right way because you have so much to live for and if u ever feel that way this will change ur mind. please feel enjoyment.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXO

Kyle had been in a swirling, black abyss of pain and suffering ever since the new girl, Angelina, had started attending South Park High. She was gorgeous, flawless, and she had Stan's complete and undivided attention. Angelina was gradually taking Kyle's place, on days where they used to go to Shakey's Stan now went to the mall with Angelina, or Kyle would find them making out against Stan's car and Kyle could do nothing but walk away dejectedly and cling to his textbooks and cry.

The worst part was that he couldn't even hate Angelina. She was perfect in absolutely every way. She smiled at him all the time and asked him about his day, and she made him feel really valuable and important, because it was obvious she wasn't asking to be polite - she really, truly cared with every fiber of her sweet soul. So it was very confusing for Kyle, because he wanted to be angry, he wanted to curse her name every single moment, he wanted to hate her and murder her and get his Stan back, but all he could do was sigh and cry in confusion, because she was so nice and he only wished that things had turned out differently.

But he didn't want to bring up how Stan was always with her to Stan, because he felt he had no right to do so and that he would come off as possessive or clingy. And Kyle and Stan would always remain Super Best Friends and confronting Stan about her would make it seem like he wanted more, which Kyle wasn't ready to admit to himself. So Kyle kept his feelings secret, locked away in a deep dark part of himself that he would never reveal to anyone ever.

Unfortunately this meant that he was having to deal with this whirlwind of emotions all the time by himself, and it was dragging him down. His grades were slipping and he was losing his friends, and when Stan had time to pay attention to him, Stan would give him these very sad looks and tell him that he didn't look well. But it didn't matter, Kyle would never tell him these problems, because he wasn't going to drag Stan down with him. He would cope, alone and miserable, forever and ever.

So there Kyle was, sobbing uncontrollably in the corner of his darkened room and feeling generally pathetic. He knew that the only way to ever get out of this spiraling misery would have to be to bring it up to Stan, but that would also ruin the strong bond that they have nurtured for all of these years, and he wasn't ready to be at risk of destroying that.

So Kyle did the only thing he could do. He crawled miserably over to his desk, sniffing and wiping at the tears of crystal that slipped from his shining emerald eyes, and reached into the drawer. He pulled out a very sharp knife that he had stolen from the kitchen a few months ago, and it was stained with droplets of dried blood that he never cared enough to wipe off its glinting surface. He ever-so-slowly lowered the blade onto the ivory flesh behind his wrist, body trembling and tears splattering. This was it, he had to do this. And then Kyle gave it an extra inch of pressure and it pierced through his scarred skin, blood beginning to gush and mix with cascading drops of tears.

The pain was sweet and beautiful, and Kyle wept harder, not because it hurt, but because it was the most fulfilling thing he had felt all day. All of the pain of everyday life was suddenly forgotten as the knife cut through his delicate flesh, and he was in glorious bliss as he sobbed into the night, tearing open his skin to let the blood flow down his arm. It soaked his clothes, the carpet, but he didn't care, because all that mattered was the fact that he was free, even just for a few seconds.

And then his glistening jade eyes drifted to the carpet, where his blood pooled and soaked into the fibers and spread in a puddle around him. He trembled harder, lowering the knife and trying to plan some way to hide the evidence from his obsessive mother who was guaranteed to barge into his room. His vision blurred over with a layer of tears that he didn't blink away, and as the depression washed over him again he found himself shivering on the floor of his room, face damp with his own blood.

His gaze drifted to his arm, and it was still oozing blood, but it was mostly clotted and he knew he had been out for awhile. He was angry suddenly, wishing he had just died instead of waking up to this hell once again. Fresh tears spilled down his delicate cheeks, and even though he never wanted to move ever again, he knew he had to hide this mess from his mom because she would just make his life even worse if she found out. So he forced himself to his feet and he almost fell over as dizziness swept over him, and he grabbed his bed and dragged it over the stain on the carpet. He would just tell her he was reorganizing and she would never suspect a thing.

And just when he thought it was relief that he was beginning to feel, his ringtone echoed through the confines of his room. He rubbed his stinging eyes and clutched his dizzying head, stumbling to the desk where his phone lay. And he knew it could only be one person, he knew who it had to be and who he wasn't in a state to face right now. The flashing caller ID reinforced his assumption, and in the darkness all Kyle could see was the word "Stan" blaring into his gaze.

Kyle felt dizzy all over again suddenly and he collapsed onto his bed heavily, and he stared at Stan's name. Stan. What a beautiful perfect name, what a name to fit such a strong, gorgeous individual such as Stan. And even though he knew he shouldn't answer, even though he knew it would only end in more pain, he couldn't deny Stan anything.

"Hey," he answered, his voice weak and whispery and wavering.

"Uh," Stan began, clearly noticing Kyle's tone. "Hey dude, are you... are you alright? You sound kind of... broken."

Kyle laughed bitterly. Broken. What a perfect way to describe it. He was broken, heart and soul, but Stan could never know that. "I'm just fine," he lied, though his delicate voice betrayed him once again. "I just got up from a nap, that's all. I guess... I guess I'm still a little tired."

"Kyle..." Stan took in a breath of air, indicating he was beginning a speech of some sort which Kyle did not need right now. "Look, for the past few weeks you haven't been the same person, dude. I started to notice little signs of it and it gradually got worse and worse, and I just... why can't you tell me what's really going on? We're Super Best Friends, right? I'm here for you..."

Kyle couldn't suppress the little sob that came forth when Stan said "Super Best Friends." He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He could start crying again at any second, and that would ruin everything. "There's nothing going on," he insisted, his voice cracking with a new wave of tears. He held the phone away from his face and sniffed, rapidly wiping away the tears as if Stan could see them somehow. "I'm okay," he whispered. "Everything's fine. Whatever signs you think you're seeing - you're wrong, okay?"

"_No,_ I'm _not_, Kyle," Stan's voice cracked. "I know you, I know you so well and you're too scared to admit weakness to me, you've always been. I know something's wrong and I just want to know... I just... _please_..."

"You just want to know?" Kyle repeated bitterly. He propped the phone up on his shoulder, and began absently reopening the cut on his arm with his free hand, sending stinging bursts of pleasurable pain up his arm as he began to bleed again. "Why? So you can go make fun of me with _Angelina_?" He stopped, his eyes widening in panic. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Is... is this about her? Is this about _her_? Kyle..." Stan's voice warned, and he could hear Stan sigh with frustration. "Kyle, stop hiding things from me, I'm getting to the bottom of this because I fucking care about you and I... I just can't stand to see you trouble or upset or just... sad. I care so much, Kyle. And Angelina won't come an inch near anything you tell me, why would I do that? Why would you even think that?"

Kyle was just shaking his head miserably, clawing at his arm desperately as he repeated "It's not about her, _it's not about her_." He barely heard Stan's other words, too caught up in the warning edge to Stan's tone, that little sound that suggested anger, or even hate, and Kyle couldn't stand it. He was trembling uncontrollably as his nails carved new cuts into his already damaged arm, and he could do nothing more than repeat those words over and over, his voice growing increasingly shaky and broken.

"Kyle?" his voice had the intonation of a child, shaky and dripping with innocence. "That's... that's it, I'm coming over." The soft static from Stan's line was cut off with a beep and his cellphone drifted to his wallpaper, which Kyle had set to black.

Kyle cried out in outrage. There was no way he could hide things from Stan if Stan were actually in his room, looking him in the face and demanding answers. He threw his phone up against the wall where it made a huge dent before falling to the floor, probably broken. Kyle didn't care. He fell over on his bed and pressed his face into the mattress, crying loudly and brokenly. It was all over. Stan would hate him now for sure.


	2. My Immortal

**A/N - **PLEASE GIVE THE REVIEWS AND U WILL BE PAYED WITH THE COOKIES AND LOVE. FLAMMERS CAN USE TEH FLAME FOR OUR MARSHMALLOWS THAT WE MAKE.

LOVE TO ALL ENJOY THIS PLEASE :3

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXO

Since Stan's house was just a few houses down from Kyle's, within a few minutes later the sound of Stan's knuckles colliding with his front door resounded throughout the house, and Kyle froze. '_Please, no one answer the front door...' _his thoughts screamed and he buried his tear-stained and blood-stained face into his mattress. The door to his room was already locked, so there was no way Stan could get in. He convinced himself that he didn't care that Stan would be standing in the hallway and pleading to talk to him. He didn't care.

He didn't care.

_He didn't care_.

Yet the sound of the front door opening drifted through the house, and the sound of his mom greeting Stan warmly and telling him Kyle was in his room, and Kyle felt guilt beyond belief as he heard Stan running up the stairs.

'_I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE!_' his mind screamed, even as Stan pounded on his door.

"Kyle?" Stan's voice that was like audible chocolate to Kyle's ears echoed through the hallway, and Kyle groaned with agony. That fucking voice. That fucking voice was going to make him open that door and he knew it. "Kyle, unlock the door..."

Kyle thought about ignoring him, but he knew Stan would never give up, never go away. He knew Kyle was in here, so it would be pointless to try to hide. Unless... his gaze drifted to the window, and he wondered how hard it would be to escape. He could just sneak out and run forever, and he would never have to deal with any of this. He could just leave it all behind.

But wasn't there an easier way? He looked now at the knife, which glinted invitingly in the dim light. There was an easier way to make an escape, one that wouldn't involve running or hiding... One quick stab and he'd be dead, and he'd never have to face any of this pain again.

"Kyle, you're not..." Stan's voice swirled through his ears. "You're not doing anything stupid, right? I... you just, why can't you open the door? I swear, I will kick it down."

Kyle sighed, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. He was tired of crying, tired of hurting. Most of all, though, he was tired of being unable to see Stan. It wouldn't hurt, right? He had already made up his mind, he was definitely going to die... it wasn't too much to ask to see Stan one last time, right?

Kyle got out of bed and stumbled to the mirror, his legs feeling weak and wavery and he almost fell five times on his way there. He wiped helplessly at the blood on his face, but it was already dried on there and it didn't go away much. He was instead distracted by how disgustingly fat he was. He hadn't eaten anything in days, yet he was still a fucking monster like ten times huger than Cartman.

He hated himself, he hated the person he was and how he always managed to fuck things up and how he was a general disgrace to society. It was all the more reason to kill himself. One stab, one stab and it was all gone. But he couldn't possibly do that to Stan right now, even if he was an oblivious jackass sometimes. So he stumbled towards the door, leaning against it and scratching at the biggest sections of dried blood before his trembling hand went to twist the lock.

He staggered away from the door as soon as it was unlocked. He couldn't bear to open it and look at Stan right in the face in the light of the hallway. Maybe here, in the darkness, Stan wouldn't notice how damaged he was. Kyle had punched out the light bulb on the ceiling like two weeks ago, so Stan wouldn't even be able to turn on the light and see him properly. _'Everything's going to be okay_', he told himself. _'Just one quick look at Stan, and maybe a goodbye hug or something, and then I'm ending it all_.'

He sat down heavily on his bed, awaiting the inevitable...

And with a click and a creak, the door to his room was warily opened, revealing Stan. _Stan._ There he was, backlit by the light from the hallway and looking like a fucking god. Kyle felt so pathetic, blood-stained and ugly, huddled in the darkness of his room. He suddenly really did not want Stan to see him like this, in this disgraceful state, he didn't want him to judge him, even if he wouldn't ever say it to his face.

"Go away, Stan," Kyle moaned brokenly, pulling a blanket up to hide his face and his arm. Maybe Stan hadn't noticed anything. Maybe he would get lucky and Stan would just leave him to die alone, just like he deserved. He at least got to see Stan, that was good enough. He could die happy. Well, he could die content, at least. He'd never, _ever_ be happy.

"Kyle..." Stan's voice was like a child's again, dripping with worry and taking Kyle back to all the years that they'd known each other. Stan took a cautious step forward, making out Kyle's form through the darkness and ever-so-slowly striding towards it. He moved a strand of raven black hair from his face, continuing towards Kyle. "Dude, this is serious..."

Kyle shook his head, faking a smile that he knew Stan couldn't see. "Everything's fine, dude," he lied again. "You're just... you're-" he stopped as a sob wracked his delicate body, and he hoped Stan's eyes hadn't adjusted enough to see the effect it had on him. "You're blowing things out of proportion," he finished weakly. He'd hoped that he could say it strong enough that Stan would believe him and leave, but it sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

"You're hiding in the dark..." Stan began, his voice so caring it was almost motherly, lowering himself to Kyle's level. "...that means something is seriously wrong. I know you, Kyle, I know you better than anyone."

Stan reached out in front of him to where he presumed Kyle to be, his delicate fingertips brushing across Kyle's cheeks, stained with sections of dried blood. Stan's ocean eyes would have looked frozen over if Kyle was able to see in front of him, while he shrunk at Stan's touch. Stan knew now, he knew there was something deeper now and Kyle regretted ever letting him in.

"I told you, dude," Kyle tried weakly, knowing even before began that it was useless. "I was napping, and so it's still dark from that..." He pushed himself farther up onto the bed, scrambling away from Stan's touch, and he huddled against the wall like a scared animal trapped in a corner. That's how he felt, really. Except he would never lash out at Stan and attack; all he could do is break into itty bitty pieces if Stan got too close.

"That was blood," Stan's voice rang, empty and hollow. He moved closer as Kyle moved farther. "That was fucking blood on your face, and you're going to tell me what's wrong right god damn now, Kyle."

Kyle whimpered at the intensity in Stan's tone, mistaking the concern for hatred. He couldn't stop himself when he began to cry again softly, and the little broken noises were floating through the room and there was no way to hide them. "Please," he begged. "Please don't ask me anymore, I don't want to ruin our friendship, Stan, _please_." He began crying harder now, and he covered his face with his hands. "Just forget about all of this! It'll all be over soon anyway!"

Stan's breath hitched, and he continued to move closer. "Nothing, Kyle, _nothing_ can ruin our friendship..." Stan's heart ached at the sound of Kyle's sobs, he hated that sound. It tore him apart, knowing that he was part of the reason for those tears. He never wanted to be that. And as much as Kyle was going to convince him, walking away wouldn't solve a single thing.

And so he reached out, clutched to Kyle's shaking shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. "Nothing..."

"Ah!" Kyle cried out as his injured arm got trapped between them. The pain wasn't pleasurable anymore; it was a sick reminder of the fact that his whole life was about to come crashing down. All Stan had to do was see just a glimpse and it would all be over. He squirmed a little, fighting against Stan's muscular arms, but in his weakened state with no food for days and the blood loss, he didn't even stand a chance. "Stan, please," he whimpered, going limp against Stan's strong chest in defeat. He was just so tired...

"Kyle, why..." Stan knew the tone in Kyle's voice, that was pain. Kyle was in pain, and he knew he wasn't holding onto him nearly that hard. He knew there was something terribly wrong, and then he was reminded of the blood on his face and all he had to do was put two and two together. He ran his fingers up Kyle's arm and gasped. It was damp, dry and flaky in a few sections, but Stan knew that consistency. He stroked down the surface of Kyle's ivory flesh, his own blood going cold. "No..."

Kyle sobbed openly into Stan's shoulder - there was nothing to hide anymore. "Just go away," he begged. "Just go away now and you'll never have to deal with this anymore! I - I n-never wanted to hurt you Stan, and I won't h-hurt you anymore! You just have to leave!"

Stan's heart caught in his throat, seeing and feeling Kyle cry was too much for him to take. He had to fix this, he didn't want this anymore. So he wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist, lifting him into his arms and dragging him across the bed and into a lit room. "Leaving isn't going to fucking solve anything."

"Yes it is!" Kyle sobbed, shoving at Stan's chest. He curled in on himself, trying to hide his mangled arm and blood-stained and tear-stained face from Stan's view. "If you leave," he said waveringly, "If you leave... you can remember me like I was! Because..." He looked up, meeting Stan's eyes fully and harshly. "I WON'T BE HERE TO WORRY YOU ANYMORE! YOU CAN LIVE HAPPILY WITHOUT ME!"

Stan's arms dropped and he took in Kyle's words, panic rushing through him. "W-what, Kyle... Kyle, you make me so happy... even if you're completely broken and a teary mess you still make me so fucking happy, and you do not for one second fucking _think_ about suicide because you can't imagine how hollow my life would be. Why would you even... why would you think about doing that? You're so... perfect, and you don't even know it. I can't lose you, Kyle, I need you, you're a part of me..."

Kyle was dizzy suddenly and the weakness overtook him, and with the lack of Stan's support he fell helplessly to the floor. He sat brokenly on his knees, his head bowed, and he cried like he had never cried before, tears splattering onto his blood-stained clothes, and he clawed at his arm once again, digging his nails violently into his flesh. "You don't need me anymore... you don't even have time for me... You wouldn't even notice if I disappeared, Stan, it would make your life so much easier because you'd have more time to spend with _her_ without worrying about trying to find some time for me... You only care now out of obligation, but if I had done this before you noticed anything, you'd be living happily, totally oblivious. And that's what I wanted!"

Stan shot to the floor and lifted Kyle up, pulling him against him again. "Why do you so firmly believe that I don't care about you every hour I'm awake? Because I fucking do, you're always on my mind and this isn't fucking about Angelina, this is about _us,_ you and me, and I... I care about you more than you know..."

"Then why don't I see it!" Kyle shrieked, his emotions wild and zipping from hurt to pain to anger within seconds. "Why am I left sitting by myself every single day, just wishing to catch a glimpse of you, while you ignore all of the plans we make to go spend more time with her! It is about her, Stan, you know it is! And you know you don't need me and you know that you care about her way more than you could ever care about me! Your words don't matter - your actions speak loudly enough!"

"My actions speak loudly enough? Okay, then, Kyle. Then fucking listen to me," he began, taking in a huge breath of air and holding Kyle's face delicately in his hands, slowly and blindly moving his lips over Kyle's.

Kyle gasped delicately, his head spinning with delight and weakness and confusion, and it felt so perfect having Stan's lips touched against his own so softly, so reverently. He felt like a piece of glass, or a precious breakable jewel, and he knew that Stan only wanted to take care of him and protect him, it was so obvious from the soft way that Stan held him. But still...

Kyle jerked away from the kiss, looking away to hide his blood-stained face. "But why..?" he choked out. "Why now? Why ignore me and spend all of your time kissing _her_? Why didn't you just..." he was cut off by the lump in his throat, and all that came out was a pathetic whimper.

Stan shook, rubbing the sides of his head to gather himself. "Kyle, I've been... I've been so confused, about us, about what we really are, I just had to spill all of that, I had to let it go and she was always there, she was there to help me forget about all this confusion and risk when I couldn't possibly confront you with it. And now, look. I fucked up."

Kyle was shaking his head, looking anywhere but at Stan. "No, Stan, you're perfect..." he whispered. "I just... I want you to be happy, and I know it can never be with me. Angelina is gorgeous and friendly and smart, and I just... I'm so ugly, Stan. I'm fat and I'm stupid, and I'm not worth your attention. I know that, but I can't make myself accept it. Which is why I just need to die. I need to take myself out of the equation, because I'm selfish and I want what I want, even if it makes you unhappy. Then you can go be with her, and everything will be fine..."

Stan slid behind Kyle, resting his chin on his shoulder. "You're so wrong. Kyle, you're _so_ wrong. First of all..." he slid his hands under the fabric of Kyle's shirt, carefully brushing across the bony, delicate surface. "_Fat?_ I can feel your ribs, Kyle, you're skinnier than my fucking girlfriend is. And, I don't know if you've been around Angelina enough, but she isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. That would be you. And the only reason you haven't had my undivided attention lately is because I've been scared... I've been scared to tell you everything I've been thinking lately and how much I..." Stan pressed his lips against Kyle's jaw. "How much I need you..."

Kyle trembled weakly, his skin burning where Stan's hands rested delicately under his shirt, waves of pleasure tingling from the point Stan's lips had brushed him. He shook with the intensity of it, his eyes filling with tears once again, but this time because of the pure, overwhelming goodness of this moment. He covered Stan's hands with his own, the dried blood making the touch tacky and unpleasant, and Kyle flinched and pulled his hands away.

"I'm sorry, Stan..." he whispered. It still hurt more than anything, knowing that Stan still considered Angelina his girlfriend, knowing that that wouldn't change no matter what happened tonight. They could never be together; there were too many forces working against them. Their parents, society, Stan's reputation... none of it would survive. Even so, he leaned back into Stan's embrace, trying to enjoy this rare moment of bliss, to file it away in his memory so he could hopefully return to this moment in the afterlife.

Stan took Kyle's hands in his again, squeezing delicately and reassuringly. "Sorry for what? K-Kyle, I'm the one that should be apologizing... I've been using Angelina to try to stop feeling this for you but it never goes away and I see your eyes in hers and hear your voice, I just... I didn't think about how much I was hurting you, I didn't know, and... and you have every right to completely hate me."

"No!" Kyle gasped, jerking out of his weak daze. He sat up straight, fully alert for the first time since they started talking. He turned enough so he could look at Stan directly, holding the eye contact as much as he could with the darkness dancing around the edges of his vision. "Stan I could never hate you, I couldn't..." He stopped, pressing a hand to his forehead in an attempt to steady himself. "I can't... I can't stop feeling the way I do, and I'll never... I'll never hate you, Stan, _ever_."

"Good..." he hummed, moving towards Kyle like a magnet and capturing his lips with his own. He was going to spill everything to Kyle with this kiss, he was going to solidify that he only wanted him, wanted to protect him, wanted to love him. He was all that Stan could ever need.

Kyle moaned into the kiss, clutching Stan's shoulders for support as he squeezed his eyes closed. He felt like he was totally detached from the world, like there was cotton or static or something in his head, clawing at his consciousness and threatening to drag him under. But Stan was like a ray of light, a pillar of stability, and Kyle only had to hold onto him to keep living. He couldn't be without Stan, not ever. A life without him was unimaginable, and it was worse than any kind of hell Kyle could think of.

Stan let his moans escape in response, drifting his fingers through Kyle's marmalade waves that framed his face, the tips damp with tears. He should have been kissing Kyle this whole time. He should have done this sooner, he should have acted on what his body and his heart were trying to tell him because they were _right_, more than Stan would have known. He loved this boy, his hair, his eyes, his body, his voice, his personality... he's always loved this boy, there was no Stan without Kyle. He moved his lips against Kyle's, his actions gushing all of the passion he had been hiding for all this time. And then he realized that Angelina wasn't completely out of the picture, and hesitantly pulled away.

"I have... I have to call Angelina and let her go, Kyle, I'm so sure about this..." Stan rested his forehead against Kyle's, lips apart just enough for Stan to talk.

Kyle's vision blurred as tears filled his eyes again, and he tried his best to fight them off, to trust what Stan was saying. But there was still apart of him that was ripped apart to know that Stan was _still_ thinking of her in the midst of all of this, that the first thing that came to Stan's mind was her even while their lips were sealed together.

He let out a little whimper that he tried to disguise as a laugh, and he smiled feebly. "Okay," he whispered, a few tears spilling over and racing down his cheeks.

Stan frowned and ran his fingers over Kyle's cheeks, wiping away the spilling tears. "Kyle... Kyle, you're all that I want, I'm sorry, I... I'm going to make it all up to you, I promise..."

Kyle nodded as much as he could with their foreheads still pressed together, and he let his eyes flutter closed to Stan couldn't read his emotions in them. "I know, it's okay. Go call her, it's okay."

Stan nodded slowly, and pressed his lips against Kyle's once more, squeezing his hand to continue to reassure his words. He pulled away gently, untangling their fingers and running his hand down Kyle's cheek. "Alright... I'll be right back, then, and... and Kyle, I _promise_ you I'll prove to you how sorry I am..."


	3. Bring Me To Life

**A/N - **IN CASE U HAVNT FIGURED IT OUT BY NOW, THIS IS YAOI WHICH MEANS BOY/BOY LOVING ON EACH OTHER, DON'T LIKE DON'T READ OK. THERE WILL B MORE OF THE SENSTIVE SUBJECT MADDER IN THIS CHAPPY, SO B PREPARED FOR THAT IF U R FRAGILE PLEASE TO NOT READ FOR IT WILL UPSET U.

HAVE SOME ENJOYMENT.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Kyle stared blankly at the door from the place he had huddled up, holding his knees tightly to his chest protectively. It seemed like Stan had been gone forever, and with each passing second, Kyle grew more and more terrified that Stan would never come back. That maybe, after all of his persistence, he grew tired of Kyle and realized how annoying and stupid he was, and that he ran away.

'_If that's the case,'_ Kyle thought miserably, '_then it's back to Plan A...' _ He wasn't scared of dying, but at the same time, he had allowed himself to hope that Stan's words were true, and that they would truly live happy lives together. But no, by this time, Stan was probably telling Angelina the whole thing and they were probably laughing about it as they fucked like rabbits... ON STAN'S BED, THE BED THAT KYLE HAD SLEPT IN SO MANY TIMES.

Kyle began to shake and cry at the thought, gazing helplessly at his damaged arm and wishing he had the knife again.

Stan returned to Kyle's room with a smile, and tried to flip the light switch a few times with no success. He raised an eyebrow. "No lights?"

Kyle gasped. He couldn't believe Stan had come back. "Um," he choked out. "It's... broken." His voice wavered. Admitting that... it felt so much more personal, like he was talking about more than just the light. Maybe he was.

"Hmph," Stan shrugged it off, striding towards Kyle and lowering to his level. "Well, it's official. We're over, which means..." Stan intertwined his fingers with Kyle's. "...we can finally begin."

Kyle couldn't stop the wavering smile that pulled onto his face, and he let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "Do you really want that?" he asked hesitantly, tightening his hold on Stan's hand. "I'll never... I'll never be perfect, and I'll probably always doubt you, even though I know I shouldn't... How do you know you won't get tired of it? Why don't you think you deserve better?"

Stan laughed at how oblivious Kyle was, how he didn't know how absolutely perfect he was. "Kyle, you are everything that Angelina couldn't ever be and everything that she was, you're what I wanted this whole time and you are so fucking perfect, doubt me all you want but I _know_ I don't deserve better because I can't really get any better than this."

Kyle also laughed at how oblivious Stan was, how he didn't know that Kyle was flawed and broken, and would forever make their lives miserable. He didn't want to be this way anymore, but he had dug a hole so deep that there was no way out of it. His perception of himself was forever skewed, his outlook on the world forever dark and jaded. "Stan, I..." he trailed off, not knowing what he wanted to say, how to express all of these feelings in words. "I don't know what to do, what to say. I can't make this right. I'm so frustrated right now because I'm feeling so many things I've never felt before and I don't know how to handle them..." he paused, biting at his lip. If they were going to have a chance together, he might as well be honest. "All I want to do is cut myself over and over until it finally makes sense, until the world stops spinning and stays still so I can examine it and figure out where I went wrong, so I can have some _control_."

Stan's eyes were pooling with tears before he could realize it. He snaked his toned arms around Kyle's waist, shaking his head and moving his face closer. "That's what I want to be... I want to fix you, Kyle, I want to be the escape that you seem to think that cutting yourself creates. I want to make you into the Kyle I've known since I could hardly talk, the Kyle you were before I knocked you down... because it's all my fault and you're beyond everything to me. I'm going to make this right. If you don't have the confidence to jump into this or put yourself back together, _I_ will be that for you, Kyle, I always should have been."

Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan's back and clung to him desperately, holding on as tightly as he could, searching for that relief that he always so desperately sought out every time he picked up his knife. It was different, wrong almost, because there was no pain, no overwhelming sensation of relief. There was comfort, yes, and it felt amazing and beautiful being wrapped in Stan's strong embrace, and he loved the feel of him, the warmth of him, the smell of him, but... it just wasn't the same.

"Stan," he whispered, clinging with all his strength. "Hold me tight. As tight as you can. _Please_."

Stan did as he was told, squeezing Kyle's form with all that was in him yet still with caution and care, just enough to make him ache but not enough to break him. He found the perfect balance and clung to him with all the force he could manage.

It felt amazing, the breath being squeezed out of his lungs, the way Stan's arms pressed against his thin bones, almost as if he were trying to crush him. Kyle sucked in a thin breath, burying his face against Stan's neck. This was what he was looking for, what he needed. A knife could hurt him and make him feel the pain he needed, but it couldn't kiss him and hold him and tell him how much he was needed.

"Fuck, Stan..." he breathed. "This is perfect."

Stan smiled against Kyle's neck, squeezing him tighter and peppering Kyle's ivory flesh with kisses as he moved towards his lips, showering Kyle with all the love he always wanted to give. He stopped at the corner of Kyle's mouth, slightly pulling his head back and gazing into Kyle's eyes as much as he could in such darkness. "It really is..." Stan began, tilting his head and locking Kyle's lips with his own like his missing puzzle piece. He parted away again, just enough to speak and still breathe Kyle's air. "It really is perfect..."

"I..." Kyle started, and he could feel his face burning with shame. "I can't believe I was so prepared to... to leave you..."

Stan shook his head slowly. "But you had every right to, Kyle... I broke you, I broke you just because I was scared. I didn't do anything right for you, I just tore you to pieces and let it happen..."

Kyle trembled against him, relaxing into Stan's hold. "I don't blame you at all. I... I don't think I'll ever be the same again, but Stan, it's not your fault. Don't ever blame yourself, okay?"

Stan shook his head. "It's completely my fault. I'm why you cut yourself, I'm why you were going to end your life because I was all you had and I left you alone and I... that was such a terrible thing to do..."

Kyle sighed, desperately searching for a way to make this better. It didn't matter how he felt; he could live every day in horrible pain and it wouldn't matter. But Stan... he couldn't stand it if Stan was anything other than completely happy, which meant it was breaking Kyle heart to know that Stan felt so guilty, especially over Kyle's stupidity. If only he hadn't been so weak... if only he had been better... then Stan would be feeling this way right now.

"Then..." Kyle said hesitantly, saying what he believed to be the one thing that would make it better for Stan. And maybe, just maybe for them both. "Make it up to me. Every single day, every single second that we're together."

Stan's eyes glistened over and he jerked forward an inch, reconnecting their mouths and voicing to Kyle that that was exactly what he was going to do. He clung to him with everything he had, spilling his heart and soul into a single gesture that told Kyle, "I will."

Tears of pure and complete bliss spilled down Kyle's cheeks as he heard Stan's unspoken words so loudly and clearly. He kissed him back passionately, finally truly responding to Stan's affection, and he couldn't believe that he had gone from feeling like his world was over, to feeling something this amazing. He had never been happier. And although that happiness was still tinged with darkness, and he knew it would never be easy, there was suddenly a light at the end of the tunnel... a light that wasn't death at all.

Stan smiled against Kyle's lips, lowering him as he continued to move his lips fluidly against Kyle's, easing him down until his back hit the floor. Stan cautiously begged for access to Kyle's mouth with his tongue, prodding gently and curiously.

Kyle's lips slipped open eagerly and his tongue met Stan's, caressing it and inviting it inside. He clung to Stan's shoulders, feeling so complete and protected. Stan's strong body was like a shield over him, and the proximity was running through his bones like fire, bringing him to life in ways he'd never imagined. Kyle kissed him desperately, trying to get as close as possible, wishing that he could hold Stan tight enough, kiss him hard enough, that all barriers between them were destroyed forever, making one single perfect entity.

Stan let moans escape into Kyle's mouth, their tongues dancing and his fingers running through the ginger spirals framing his face and cascading onto the floor beneath him. He was set on proving everything to Kyle, to let him know he wasn't ever going to repeat his mistakes, that he would constantly be here, holding him, protecting him, loving him.

Maybe it was because of their Super Best Friend bond, or maybe it was the way Stan was kissing him and caressing him, but somehow Kyle understood all of these things, and he felt guilty for ever doubting Stan at all, for knowing that he would continue to doubt him. He cautiously slid his shaking hands under the back of Stan's shirt, letting his fingertips brush along Stan's spine ever-so-gently, half expecting to be shoved away at any moment. But he couldn't help it; he just had to be closer, had to feel _more_.

Kyle's touch left his flesh tingling, burning, shivers shot down his spine beneath his ivory fingertips. Stan moaned and whimpered into Kyle's mouth, feeling more than he ever thought possible with another human being, and with something so simple. It _was_ perfect, the way Kyle fit perfectly beneath him and how powerful their connection was and always had been. He returned Kyle's actions, taking a hand from under his head and snaking it up his side.

Kyle broke away from the kiss to let out a gasp, and he shivered delightedly at the feeling of Stan's hand caressing him. "Fuck, Stan..." he whispered, arching into the touch and pressing their chests together, filled with such warmth and love that he thought he was going to explode.

"Kyle..." he purred, moving his hands further up Kyle's midsection and feeling goosebumps form beneath his fingertips. Stan knew he should have always been doing this, always have been right here, with Kyle, sharing a bond so strong that Stan couldn't comprehend it. He knew they were always meant to be this way, from the second their orbs of green and blue shared a gaze, it was always fate.

Kyle leaned up, kissing Stan's forehead, his cheeks, his chin, before finally ghosting over his lips again. "Stan, I..." Once again he was stuck not knowing how to put his feelings into words, but he was feeling something so powerful, so pure and beautiful, that it had to be expressed. But words would only ruin it.

So he pressed their lips together again firmly, confidently, because if there was one thing he knew now, it was that Stan would always be there for kisses and affection whenever Kyle needed it. He was still afraid to press his luck, because this all seemed like a delicate dream, one that would pop and fade away in an instant, but somehow it just felt right at the moment, like nothing could possibly go wrong.


	4. We R Who We R

**A/N - **THIS CHAPTER HAS THE MATURITIES, SO BE WARNED FOR IT. i will not be held for the responsibility of the people who read who were not meant to be reading, and for the people find hatred for the things that this chapter contained. fear not its ok though follow the law and it will be ok

to be enjoyed by you for this thank you :3

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Kyle stared deeply into Stan's oceanic orbs, and tried to silently communicate all the things he had been feeling up until this moment. He tried to share the months of sadness, the day he finally couldn't take it anymore and stole the knife from the kitchen, holding onto it for days before he finally got the courage to drag it across his arm that first time; he tried to share the loneliness, watching Stan and Angelina grow closer everyday, while Kyle faded into the background.

On top of that, though, he wanted share how complete he felt now, like all of that pain was worth it. He wanted Stan to feel not guilty, but happy, because he was the one who was causing such wonderfulness. If Kyle could feel so hurt over what had happened, it was because there was the potential for such _goodness_, and Kyle wanted to communicate that more than anything.

Stan smiled down at Kyle, his light, his love, his life, his everything. He knew that they had opened a door that led to so many more, and Stan was so happy, so proud to have finally found his place. Right here, looking down at Kyle's freckled ivory cheeks with waves of auburn circling him almost like a halo, which I guess would make sense because after all Kyle was his angel.

To Kyle, suddenly the world seemed like a perfect place. Suddenly it moved with such a perfect grace. Suddenly his life didn't seem like such a waste, because it all revolved around Stan. There was no mountain too high, no river too wide; storm clouds may gather and stars may collide, but they would love each other until the end of time; until their dying days.

For Kyle, he didn't know when his dying day would be, whether it'd be tomorrow or eighty years from now, but those were still the truest words that he had ever thought.

"Kyle..." his name rolled off Stan's tongue, suddenly sounding so beautiful, so powerful and angelic. It was so fitting for his man, his emerald jewels and ginger ringlets, his pasty yet gorgeous ivory flesh splattered with freckles that perfectly matched the shade of his hair, every single fiber of him was pure Kyle, and Stan couldn't think of a better name.

"Stan..." Stan was looking down at him with such undivided attention, the attention that Kyle had craved for so long, and it felt even better than he thought it would to finally have it. Stan's gorgeous blue eyes that seemed to hold the heart and soul of the ocean; his hair, black as the raven's wing; his soft, perfect skin that was lightly tanned from being out in the sun practicing for football. He was truly gorgeous, truly manly, with his muscles that were prominent without being gross. Kyle loved the way Stan could hold him down, making it impossible to move. Even more, though, he loved that Stan would always, _always_ let go whenever Kyle wanted him to. Stan would never hurt him unless he wanted it, never restrain him unless he wanted that too. Would never do anything without Kyle's full consent, and it was a beautiful feeling.

… a feeling, Kyle realized, that was called _trust_. A feeling that he thought he had forgotten how to feel.

Stan couldn't explain all of the emotions gushing throughout him, all of them revolving around his Kyle. His Kyle, _his_ Kyle. It sounded so new yet Kyle had always been _his_ Kyle, maybe not at such a physical degree like they were now but with their lifetime connection. Kyle had always been his, he'd always been faithful and gorgeous and amazing, Stan just hadn't opened the door they had been afraid to mention. Kyle's eyes- such a brilliant green, like Stan was gazing into the depths of a winding, lush forest- looked up into his own with just as many emotions, the swirls of green twinkling and telling him, "I'm yours."

Looking into his eyes, Stan remembered back when they were kids, when Kyle was so obsessed with Farmville... he had come to Stan one day, begging for Stan to water his crops. How symbolic that seemed, now. Kyle's eyes, as green as the corn he was planting (before it sprouted and there was yellow, although Kyle did kind of have some star bursts of yellow in his eyes), and Stan... Stan was the water, meant to nurture him and help him grow to his full potential.

"Stan," Kyle said delicately, breaking the beautiful silence that had fallen over them. "Stan, I..." He wanted so much more than this, but he was so terrified of taking it. He didn't want Stan to lift his shirt and see how ugly he was, he didn't want to be naked and vulnerable, covered with scars and the fresh gashes on his arm. He wouldn't be able to bear it. But at the same time, he needed so much more, knew that the only way for the broken shards of himself could only be put back together if he and Stan were physically bonded together.

"Kyle..." Stan said again, he couldn't get enough of his name, even when it was his own voice saying it he couldn't stop the shivers. Though Kyle doesn't say his own name too often. Stan wouldn't be able to handle that. But with the tone of Kyle's voice, he knew they were on the same page, but he could also feel the worry and... fear in Kyle's intonation. He was scared. Stan's hand drifted to Kyle's face, so perfect he was afraid to touch it, like porcelain if porcelain had freckles, and he ever-so-gently drifted his hand down the side of his face. He was too beautiful to be human.

Kyle shivered and let out a little moan at the reverent way Stan was touching him. After all that he had done, after all the horrible things he had thought while Stan and Angelina were together, he couldn't believe Stan was actually touching him this way... that he even deserved to be touched this way. He had done everything wrong, but yet here they were, and Stan was looking at him with such love in his eyes that Kyle felt like melting.

"Stan, I'm... scared," he admitted, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "I want - but - I'm so _ugly_ and _damaged_, I... I just..." he trailed off, feeling so stupid for trying to convey such trivial things, but they were tearing him up inside, making his gaze flick across the room to where the knife still lay on the floor, blood-stained and inviting. He had to express himself before he lost control again, before he sought refuge in pain and blood.

Stan nodded because he could feel that Kyle was scared, and then the rest of Kyle's words sunk in. "K-Kyle... Kyle, why don't you see..." Stan shook his head now, snaking his hands up Kyle's torso and cautiously lifting the fabric of his shirt up to his chest. He ran them back down, down the dips of his ribs, the soft, delicate goosebumped beauty that was right in front of him. Why couldn't Kyle see how absolutely gorgeous he was? It frustrated Stan more than anything, the beautiful individual of his having such a terrible opinion of himself. He ran his hands down the ivory surface again, and then up, his skin unnaturally soft. "You're so _gorgeous_, inside and out, and I... I hate that you don't see that..." His fingers slid to Kyle's sides and he buried his fingers under Kyle, his thumb stroking his top surface as he moved his arms up again. "Do you see yourself? Do you ever look in the mirror? You're... you're flawless... and I know what you want, I... I do too..."

Kyle shivered at all the attention Stan was giving him, at the way Stan's hands felt sliding so delicately over his skin, and Kyle had never felt more loved in his whole life. The tears that had been pricking at his eyes now blurred over his vision completely, and he tried in vain to blink them away. "I'm... I'm terrified of mirrors," he said quietly. "W-When I do make myself look... I just... I see someone hideous. Someone fat and deformed, with stupid curly clown hair, and with an abnormally large nose... I... I can't believe you can look at me at all without running away in terror. I can't stand to see myself." The tears fell freely now, because this was the first time he had ever admitted that out loud, even though he had been feeling that way for most of his life. When the other boys grew into mature, handsome young men, he had grown into a monster, hideous and terrifying, meant to be locked away and never seen.

Stan shook his head furiously. "Stop, _stop_, Ky... you... why don't you fucking see this?" He grabbed the bottom of Kyle's shirt that stopped at his chest and eased it over his head, throwing it behind him and leaning towards Kyle. "How do I make you see this..." Stan leaned down, pressing his lips against Kyle's warm, soft ivory neck and sliding his hands up his body. "You are so unbelievably gorgeous, sometimes I can't believe you're a human being, you're too perfect for human standards, Kyle..." he breathed against Kyle's neck, so soft, so welcoming... "Kyle..."

Kyle moaned brokenly and slid his hands up Stan's muscular arms, holding tightly to his shoulders. "There's only one perfect person here, Stan," he whispered, staring blankly at the ceiling as tears dripped down his face. "And I fucking guarantee you that it's not me."

He felt so vulnerable with his shirt off like this, but the way Stan wasn't staring at his body, wasn't wrinkling his nose in disgust or trying to get away... it helped a little. He didn't want Stan to hate him, didn't want Stan to think he was hideous, but it felt so hypocritical because he thought those things of himself. He had to make sure Stan knew the truth of his ugliness before they went any further, because he didn't want any lies between them anymore.

"Why can't _you_ see?" Kyle asked. He pushed Stan away gently, just enough so they could make eye contact, and then he lifted up his arms and held them out so Stan could get a good look at them. At the way every inch of them was covered with scars, some new and some old, going all the way up to his shoulders. The fresh cut from the knife that had been torn open so many times in the past hour or so, the bloody scratch marks that crisscrossed it. "Tell me this perfect, Stan," Kyle said sarcastically, a little more sharply than he had intended. "Tell me this is _gorgeous_. And this," he gestured to his torso, indicating the rolls upon rolls of fat he believed to be there, while a subconscious part of himself was screaming that he was just as disgusting being overly skinny. "Is _this_ beautiful? You know the answer just as well as I do."

Stan gently took one of Kyle's arms in his hand, eyes following the trail of slashes and scars, carefully brushing his fingers across them. "That's because this..." he ran over a scar. "_These_ aren't you, Kyle... if I hadn't broken you you wouldn't have ever done this, these scars are just from the relief that I should have been giving you, and these don't fucking define you, they're just a reminder that I turned you into a different person, I brought this side of you out and..." Stan shook his head, this wasn't about him. This was about showing the love of his life just how fucking gorgeous he was. "And did you just point to this breathtaking body and ask me if it was beautiful? Because, _yes_, it is beautiful. But, like you said, actions speak louder..."

Stan lowered Kyle's arm back to his side, leaning down and lowering himself to Kyle's perfectly slender midsection. Then he extended his tongue, pressing it to Kyle's beautifully smooth flesh and dragging it up to his collarbone, lingering on it and then pressing a kiss to his heated neck.

"Nnnnghusahs," Kyle groaned, twisting under the feeling of Stan's tongue against his skin. It felt amazing, he had never been licked before, but it was hotter than it had any right to be. Suddenly all of his worries were forgotten with the little kiss Stan pressed against him, and Kyle's opinion of himself suddenly didn't matter. _Stan_ thought he was beautiful; therefore it didn't matter what anyone else thought, even himself.

"Stan," he groaned, hooking his arms around Stan's shoulders and holding him close, letting Stan feel the way his heart pounded in his chest, hoping Stan understood that it was only beating for him. If Stan hadn't invited himself over, Kyle would be dead. He had no doubt about that. "Stan, you're... you're my everything. I..." The words were so impossible to form, even though they had been skirting around the truth this whole time. He had no doubt that Stan felt the same way, but those three simple words eluded him for some reason.

Stan smiled at how he could render Kyle so helpless, so... in love... that's what Kyle couldn't admit to him. He wrapped his arms around Kyle's freckled neck, lowering his face to Kyle's. "...I love you," Stan looked into Kyle's forest eyes with such burning passion, with everything he's felt for him for all this time, everything he should have done before. _"I love you..."_

Kyle smiled, the first true smile to touch his face in months, and more tears spilled down his face, but this time they were tears of pure joy. "I... I love you too, Stan," he whispered. "I want to be with you forever. I don't want anyone to ever come between us again. I just want me and you, with no one else in the world."

Stan smiled wide and captured Kyle's mouth with his own, this kiss super important and significant and further solidifying that Stan wanted exactly what Kyle wanted, he wanted to spend his life with Kyle, to grow old with him and give himself to Kyle. With his lips he conveyed this to him, that this was right, this was perfect, this was beautiful.

Kyle believed in every brush of Stan's lips, in every touch, and he knew this was the best thing in the world that could ever possibly happen. He too wanted to give Stan everything. He owed Stan his life, his sanity, his happiness, and now it only made sense to give Stan his body.

"Stan," he said shyly, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. "W-Would you... can we please..." He took a deep breath, steadying himself and met Stan's eyes with as much confidence as he could muster, even in the face of potential embarrassment, even in the face of possibly being rejected and heartbroken. "...Make love to me?"

Stan's face lit up, even he didn't know how long he had been waiting to hear that question from Kyle's lips, from that _voice_... he nodded furiously, pressing his forehead against Kyle's and breathing his air. "_Yes,_ Kyle, _yes..._"

Kyle's heart soared with bliss, and his hands slid down Stan's back and up his shirt, finally easing the barrier up and away. Stan looked so fucking gorgeous without his shirt on, and even though Kyle had seen him that way a million times, it still took his breath away. Stan's perfectly toned body, all for him. Kyle couldn't stop himself from smiling as he gently trailed his fingers down Stan's chest, following the dips and curves of his hot muscles.

"You're mine," he whispered wonderingly. "You're really mine."

"I'm yours..." Stan nodded against him, and then yanked his shirt over his head, throwing it behind them. _"I'm yours..."_

He pressed himself against Kyle, fingers drifting over his neck and easing him to the ground, tongue trailing down Kyle's jawline. He was going to give himself to Kyle, Kyle was going to give himself to him. This would signify everything, it was the final emphasis that they were one now, that nothing could break this bond.

"I love you Stan," Kyle said again, more confidently, because now that he had said it once, he could barely stop himself. "I love you so fucking much."

He leaned up, kissing Stan's neck, and sucking on it gently, Stan's taste exploding in his mouth and making him groan hotly: "Guhhhhhhngggggggggnnn."

Stan whimpered at the connection of Kyle's lips against his neck, shivering at the vibration of Kyle's hot moans against his flesh, and then delivered a similar noise onto Kyle's skin: "Aaaugggghhhhnhhghnhnnnn..."

Kyle had never heard anything so animalistic and sexual coming from Stan, and it turned him on so much. He could feel his dick growing larger at the thought, and his underwear was already wet with excitement, and he didn't know if he could make it to the actual sex because he was about to lose it over just that one hot sound that Stan made and the vibrations from it and everything.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggh Staaaaaan..."

Stan was so startled by Kyle's sudden arousal but then it suddenly made him really aroused too, and the wetness from Kyle's pants spread to his and he couldn't handle how hot it was and he bit down on Kyle's neck without even knowing he was biting him.

"Nnnngnahgghhhhdgdggghh, K-Kyleee..."

"FUCK, STAN!" Kyle groaned, twisting delightedly. He had no idea Stan was such a wild animal, with all the biting and sounds. But it turned him on even more. He wrapped his long, feminine legs around Stan's waste and shoved his hips upward, desperate for friction.

Stan growled against Kyle and then let out a long moan as Kyle's crotch rubbed against his, sending lightning throughout him and further reinforcing that he had to fuck him right here and right now. He grabbed Kyle's face with his sweaty but still hot palms and then captured his lips, pinning him to the ground and grinding against him in a steady, sexy rhythm.

Kyle arched his back like a bow and arrow, completely helpless against the waves of pleasure that Stan was sending through him. He held on tight to Stan's shoulders to keep himself grounded, because otherwise it felt like he'd float up into outer space and be lost forever. He tried to speak, tried to tell Stan how amazing it was, tried to tell him that he had to stop before Kyle came right in his pants before they even got to sex, but all that came out was a desperate, pitiful, "NYAAAAAAAAAAAH~"

Stan moaned so hard that it almost made him vomit all over Kyle and that would not be kinky in any way so he tried to contain himself over how damn sexy of a cat that Kyle made. If cats could be sexy Kyle was the sexiest cat ever. He howled like some kind of animal that was almost as equally sexy, and he was as hard as he had ever been and he thought that he was going to impale Kyle on his massive throbbing dick.

"NNNNNGGGGGGHUDHUDAAA, STAN," Kyle groaned, "Y-You sound like a werewolf." A sultry sexy smile crept onto his lips, and he nuzzled against Stan's face. "Like Twilight, you know..? My own sexy wolf has come to take me away from all the vampires that drain the life out of me and make me want to die..."

Stan grinned wide and purposely howled into Kyle's ears like a really attractive wolf, a wolf who was about to fuck the brains out of an even sexier cat. He laughed sexually against Kyle, and his spear of a dick got even sharper if that was possible, it was seriously about to burst out of his pants and hurt Kyle.

As if sensing the threat, Kyle looked into Stan's eyes firmly. "Hurt me, Stan," he purred. "You know I love it, need it... I know you won't go too far... I know you'll be everything I need. I... I trust you." And he reached down and unzipped Stan's jeans, letting his manly throbbing dick burst free with such power that it smacked against Kyle's hand, making it sting, and Kyle groaned in pleasure. "Nnnnnnguhhhhhhhh yessss."

Stan was really so startled at how fucking massive his dick had become, and it was seriously pointed at the tip he was just that hard and he didn't want to put this in Kyle as much as he did. He gulped. "K-kyle, this is going to really really hurt. I'm going to pierce through you with this. I don't want to hurt you this much..."

"Suhhhhhh-Staaaaan..." Kyle groaned, needy at the thought of that massive dick penetrating his tiny virgin ass. "Yesssss... do it, _please_." He grabbed Stan's dick to show he wasn't afraid of it, and awkwardly stroked it. It was really hard, and sharper than he had expected, and he tried to keep his surprise and slight fear from showing on his face. This was no different than his beloved knife, he told himself. Well, it was really different, since it was attached to someone who loved him so much, but the principle was the same. Stan could stab him with that knife and Kyle would get just as much pleasure out of it, knowing that Stan hurt him with love. But this was better because it was going to be sex, not murder.

"I'm scared," he admitted, because there was no point in lying. "But I know you'll make this perfect, will make this be the release and freedom I've always searched for. I know I said I'd never get better, but... maybe... maybe I was wrong, Stan..."

"K-kyle, if..." Stan paused, looking down at his sweaty beautiful lover. "If that's what it takes and what you want, I promise I'll be gentle..."

Kyle sniffled cutely and gazed at Stan's manly dick, and then looked up into Stan's sparkling caring eyes. "I trust you, Stanely Marsh," he whispered. "I trust you with everything..." And he spread his legs very widely, giving Stan lots of room, exposing his super secret place that had never before been seen by human eyes except maybe for his parents when he was born, if they actually happened to look there. He didn't know why they would have. Except while wiping him, maybe.

Stan gazed into the depths of Kyle's cavern and unsheathed his massive sword dick, and it kinda glimmered in the light because it was so pointy and majestic. He knew that this was the biggest step he would ever make in his whole life, entering Kyle and claiming him, and he was secretly really scared but he was too manly to admit that to Kyle. So he gulped and ever-so-slowly inched his dagger of love closer to his lover and braced himself even though he knew that Kyle should be the one bracing himself right now. Like if he was in Kyle's shoes he'd probably be screaming because his dick was so sharp and threatening and it would tear into him and ruin him for everyone but himself. But Stan knew that by tearing into Kyle he would be claiming him even more.

"O-okay, uhm..." Stan nodded and took deep breaths because that's what he was trained to do in like football and shit and this was like football. "A-are you ready?"

"Stan," Kyle said serenely, as if he had transcended this world and had moved to some holy state of mind. Like he was outside the world and he could view it all like some storybook, and all the people wandering around were like little insignificant ants and he was so above them and special. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life. Put your hot man rod inside of me." He spread his legs even more, so much so that it looked like they might pop off his body but that didn't happen because A.) he's very flexible, and B.) that's just not possible.

Stan was amazed at Kyle's bravery and how he was so devoted and trusting towards Stan and it made him feel special inside. He kept his pacific ocean eyes on Kyle's entrance and he nodded slowly and moved closer and was going to claim Kyle once and for all. This was it.

"Kyle..." Stan began, not sure why he was saying Kyle's gorgeous name or maybe it was just because it was too gorgeous not to say at that moment. And then he looked at Kyle again and remembered that he was delaying this and that Kyle was really sure about this. So he took in a deep breath again, and jerked himself forward, the tip of his sex weapon piercing into his lover.

Kyle screamed ("_**AAAAHHHHHGGGGG****!"**_) and he felt the blood gush between his legs as his hymnal was broken, and he knew now that he wasn't a virgin anymore. He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying even more but it didn't work and he cried, and the tears spilled down his face as he was filled with such sweet sweet pain. He remembered now why he loved cutting so much, because this was pure awesome.

"S-S-Stan," he yelped, "i-i-is it all t-the way i-i-in?" Even though it felt really good it also felt like he was really filled up, so he didn't know if anything else could even fit, so surely all of this that he was feeling was the entire length of Stan's man meat. It _had_ to be...

Stan went red and glanced down at his love dagger and there was only like one centimeter of his dick inside of Kyle but it was just so pointy and huge. "Uh. N-not quite, uh..." Stan was so scared that he would hurt Kyle that he didn't want to put all fifteen inches of his sword into Kyle because that would like come through his mouth or something.

"N-Not quite!" Kyle repeated, so startled. He sat up a little and looked between them to inspect this for himself, and sure enough there was like, none of Stan really in him at all, and Kyle suddenly very embarrassed. He grabbed Stan's love pole and started guiding him in even more, screaming with each millimeter that it went in. He bled more and more and more, but it felt so good and so terrible, and he wanted this to end so he could put a bandaid on his ass but at the same time he never wanted it to stop.

Stan could feel the sides of his blade scraping the walls of Kyle's fortress and he cringed with every millimeter but also it felt really really good for someone to finally take in the monster that lived in Stan's pants. He moaned with Kyle's bloodcurdling screams and then realized he was like three inches in now and that that was like less than 25% of him in Kyle and that he would probably kill him.

"Kyle, w-we... what if... what if you die?" Stan gasped, covering his mouth at the thought of impaling Kyle on his dick because then what would he do with the body how would he take it off and where would he put it.

Kyle took a break from screaming to gaze into Stan's eyes very very seriously and importantly. "Stanley, dear..." he crooned, caressing Stan's manly cheeks and his hair and his neck. "Then you can feel happy knowing that I died doing what I love, that I died in the way I had always dreamed of. You know... I had never really given up on killing myself, but... now you've given me a way. A way to be with you and to take myself out of this cruel world."

Stan screamed in terror because he really did not want to kill Kyle that would be way too much pressure and heartbreak but mostly pressure. "Kyle, _Kyle I can't fucking kill you_. I just can't, you don't know the immensity of what's inserting itself into you Kyle I have to stop it will end you and I can't... I can't live without you..."

"Sssshhhhhhhh, Stan, it's okay..." Kyle whispered, and he jerked his hips, forcing himself onto Stan's deadly dick even more, blood squirting out around them. He screamed, then stopped. "If you can't live without me, then come with me..." He pointed at the kitchen knife he had stolen from the kitchen and had been using to cut himself with all this time. "You can borrow it just this once... Once I'm dead, cut my dick off and choke yourself with it..."

Stan shook his head furiously and his manliness filter broke and he started crying really hard and the tears mixed in with the blood all around them. Stan pulled out what Kyle had just forced in because he didn't want to go any further they had to stop now even though this was more like stabbing or playing with scissors or something than it was sex in Stan's mind because there was blood. "Kyle, _no_. Imagine... imagine the whole life ahead of us, baby... we're only sixteen and we have whole hundreds of years to look forward to. I d-don't... I don't want to end it like this... even though this is magical I guess..."

"But Stan," Kyle cried, because he felt so empty and far away from death without Stan's dick inside him. "H-H-H-how can we live h-h-happy lives if y-you can't even f-fuck me? What's hundreds of years without sex? It'll only be p-pain and muh-muh-misery."

Stan's tears came faster and he knew Kyle was right, he was always right. They weren't even a couple if they couldn't have sex and it was all Stan's fault because his dick was just too big, and Kyle couldn't fuck him because he was too little and like always bottom I mean that wasn't even arguable. "Can... c-can we have sex without dying?"

"I... I truly don't know, Stan..." Kyle whispered through his delicate diamond tears. He wiped them away delicately, but more fell delicately, cascading delicately down his delicate feminine cheeks. "I mean... it's not guaranteed that I'll die... that's only a theory... and you know theories can't be trusted unless we can prove them, but you're too scared to even follow the scientific method... once you make your hypothesis you're supposed to test it... And I'm willing to try."

Stan was cut deep because his manliness was just questioned, and that was one thing that you never did to Stan. "I am _not_ too scared, Kyle!" he huffed, and then jerked himself forward and rammed into Kyle for like ten inches of his fifteen inch dick and then he just realized what he did and froze.

Kyle screamed and cried and couldn't even breathe for all the pain that he was feeling right now, and he could feel the breath leaving him as death tried to approach, but he fought it off because he knew it would make Stan a sad panda. He would persevere. Maybe they _could_ have a happy life if they could have sex... maybe everything wouldn't suck and would be awesome instead.

But even with those thoughts, the fact that his ass had been split in two was very horrible, and even though this was great therapy for his depression, he didn't think he'd ever overcome the physical complications that were sure to arise now.

There was one fact he had to face...

He'd never be able to shit again.

**A/N - **WHAT DID U THINK THAT WAS MY FIRST LEMON~~~

GIVE ME THE REVIEWS. THERE IS MORE CHAPTERS IN THE WAY FOR U. :3


	5. Fergalicious

**A TO THE MOTHERFUCKING N - **omg tank u 4 all ur support through the times i work on this, this has ben the great therapy to me, better than the counsler that i had and it not bad. but this is the best for me right now and im so happy too hav u all wit me on this gurney. i hop the miners did not read teh last chappy it was very sexual. ;) and this 1 will b even more so if you cannot read the last chappy not to be reading this one either b/c it will be worse... and by worse i mean beter;) ;)

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Stan couldn't believe what he had done just now even though it felt really good for the first few seconds, because he swore that he had killed Kyle right then and there. And then his life would have no purpose after he found out what to do with the remains. He trembled and slowly eased himself out of Kyle, watching the blood drip out of him, feeling like a disappointment as Kyle's lover. Why did he have to be such a man?

Kyle lay on the floor and shook and cried, feeling like he had already died. There was such pain, but it wasn't vain, he found out as he sighed. There was so much blood, dripping thickly like mud, and all Kyle could see was his man Stan. He knew death was coming, and he should go running, but death was something he loved.

On the other hand, you see, he really had to pee, so he pushed Stan off him gently. But alas he couldn't move, and although Stan wouldn't approve, Kyle rolled over and peed on the floor. He hoped no one would open the door.

Stan felt kind of sick as from out Kyle's dick came his pee which spread over the floor, and he got a view of his ass that he tore. It hurt to know that he had damaged Kyle for eternity so brutally and he could barely look at Kyle without feeling like an asshole and a terrible lover who stabbed him with his sex weapon. Kyle just wanted a perfect man that wouldn't physically hurt him like this and Stan couldn't be that.

When Kyle finished up he rolled back over and looked at Stan very seriously, and as if he could read his mind, he whispered, "Stan you're all I could ever want. You're perfect and amazing and beautiful, and if you recall I _asked_ you to hurt me, so don't you dare feel guilty." He leaned up, screaming as pain shot through him, and kissed Stan gently on the lips. "I love you, babycakes."

Stan started to cry again because he couldn't believe how perfect and nice Kyle could still be to him after all of this, and he hated how with every movement Kyle would make some noise of pain reminding Stan what he had done. But Kyle didn't think it was such a big deal, and his words made Stan feel like a better man. "Kyle, I... I love you too..."

Kyle smiled and kissed Stan again. He knew his man probably needed more reassurance, and Kyle was more than happy to give it to him, because Kyle was the perfect woman who respected his man like the lowly bitch he was. "Stan... you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world, like I'm the only one that you'll ever love... Like I'm the only one who knows your heart..." His smile turned seductive, and he said, "And..." he whispered, drawing little circles on Stan's chest with his fingertip, "Like I'm the only one who's in command, 'cause I'm the only one who understands how to make you feel like a man..."

Stan grinned wide and hummed along with Kyle because this was his fucking jam and he was reminded how much he loved Kyle always even if he did tear him from the inside. "Mmmmm, Kyle..." Stan leaned back in and gave Kyle a gentle but lingering kiss that was so passionate and thankful and perfect.

"Oh Stan..." Kyle whispered, still lightly humming their song. If they survived the night, they would forever remember this song, it would forever bring up memories of the beginning of their relationship, and now they really had a song like every legitimate couple in the world. One day, when they were old and wrinkly and gross and sitting in a diner eating soggy eggs, this song would come on and they would look at each other with tears in their eyes (because they would have been fighting over something stupid and thinking of divorce or something), and they would remember all the reasons they loved each other, and they would make out right there in the middle of the diner, in front of all the teenage girl waitresses who would be grossed out rather than fangirling because they were old.

"Stan I can just... I can see our future..." Kyle's voice cracked as he began to cry happy tears. "Stan let's get married..."

Stan's breath caught in his throat and he grabbed Kyle's delicate little ivory hands, because he swore to himself every night before he went to bed with a glass of warm milk and after reading himself a story in the voice of his mother who didn't love him anymore because he knew that she thought that he was gay and didn't love him, he always told himself that when he proposed to Kyle he was going to make it extravagant and special. And he sort of felt like a dipshit sitting in their own blood and piss but then he realized that was what made it special, because how many couples would propose in their own body fluids.

"Kyle..." Stan got on one knee and pulled from his ass a fucking massive beautiful diamond ring that also contained emeralds that were the exact shade of Kyle's eyes and Stan had to sell almost everything that he owned to obtain. He had been waiting for this moment since they were like seven. "Kyle Abraham Broflovski, will you marry me?"

Kyle burst into tears because this was all so sudden and he was so surprised. Who would have ever thought that this night would go from him trying to kill himself, to Stan inviting himself over and intervening, to a break up, to sex, and now this...? He didn't know how to handle it, so he cried and cried. Tears of joy, tears of the pain still in his ass, tears from the build up of emotions and confusion he was feeling, but mostly just tears of pure pure gorgeous happiness.

"Oh Stan," he sobbed, wiping some snot from his nose that had dribbled down onto his upper lip. "Oh Stan, I will! I WILL MARRY YOU!"

Stan slid the massively gorgeous ring onto Kyle's effeminate, delicate finger, and he realized how perfectly it suited him and Stan had bought it without even having Kyle next to him. That was how well he knew his lover. Then Stan jumped to his feet and captured Kyle's lips in his own, moaning into it immediately because he was so fucking happy that they finally made a pact that would last them forever or until a divorce. Kyle was his.

Kyle kissed him back with so much enthusiasm that their lips bruised and swelled up like Angelina Jolie's, and Kyle distantly realized that she must have such awesome lips because she gets to make out with people all the time. Now that he knew the secret, he and Stan would have awesome lips forever or until a divorce.

"Stan," Kyle said, very cereal. All of the sudden the smiles were gone because he was super cereal right now. "I need you to sign those papers that say in case of a divorce, all of my stuff is still mine. There will be no splitting of assets. You can't have my Jew gold. I've been hoarding it since before I was born, my mom was shoving it into her uterus for me, AND I WILL NEVER SHARE IT WITH YOU."

Stan was kind of hurt that Kyle's mind suddenly went to divorce, but he remembered that so did his mind. And he could feel how super, duper cereal that Kyle was and didn't want to stop that. "O-okay, babe..." Stan nodded, lightly rubbing his soft baby arms. "Where are they?"

"Well," Kyle sniffed. "I had a copy in my ass for safe keeping, should this moment arise unexpectedly, like in the back of your car or something... But I think those were destroyed by your mighty dick." he blushed. "I've been planning this for ages, um. Yeah, but anyway, I have a copy in my desk, I'll just go them." He hobbled over to his desk, screaming with every agonizing step because his ass still hurt like a motherfucker, and when he finally made it to his desk an hour later he pulled out the papers and started the long journey back to Stan's side.

Step. "AHHH!"

Step. "AHHGGH!"

Stan cringed with every scream that left Kyle's succulent mouth, with each noise he knew how much he broke him. He was just amazed at how strong he was, he was so independent and powerful and Stan was proud to finally have such an empowered individual for his very own. He squeezed Kyle's hand and wrapped his arms around his waist, pouting his lower lip all sad.

"I'm sorry... for hurting you..." Stan apologized again because his conscience was eating at him like a cheeseburger.

"Oh Stanley..." Kyle whispered through his happy tears, smiling up at Stan happily with such gratefulness because he had such a considerate, caring man in his life. "Everything's okay. You've made me feel real again, and I thought I would spend the rest of my life hating my life and everything in it. I thought I would live everyday wanting to die until I finally did die. But you know what?" He bent down, screaming as he did so, because _holy shit _that was a mistake, and grabbed his precious baby knife from the floor. He looked at it one last time, caressing it's sharp sharp blade (and he couldn't resist slicing open his finger, just for old time's sake), and then he looked Stan right in the eye and through the knife out the window. "I don't need it anymore. Because I have you."

From outside, there was the sound of the knife hitting something with a slick thumping sound, like hitting flesh, and Kenny's unmistakable scream drifted through the air.

"Oh, Kyle..." he started to cry again and hated to do so because he shouldn't ever cry ever, that was like fucking man _code_, but he had long broken that so he let it go. "You're... you're so brave, you... you gave it up, baby... I..." And then suddenly Stan was hit with his past. "Remember Hey Arnold?"

"DUDE, YES!" Kyle screamed, but this time it was an excited scream. He started wiggling and dancing, which looked kind of silly because he was still naked and Jews have no rhythm, so it was a very funny sight to behold. He started humming the Hey Arnold theme. "Do-do-do-dooo-doo~ HEY ARNOLD~!"

Stan missed the 90's and he loved Nickelodeon and he was glad that he could share all these moments with Kyle and bitch about his past. "LIFE WAS SO MUCH BETTER..." he cried and then watched Kyle strut clumsily like a fabulous clown and he secretly really loved it.

Kyle danced a little more and then stopped so abruptly he almost fell over. He was still kind of laughing, but then he serioused. "Yes, Stan, I remember... why do you bring that up?" he asked with hesitation and curiosity.

Stan shrugged and rubbed his head because he was controlled by some force inside of him that felt the need to bring back old memories which were usually TV shows. "I... I had the urge to express myself. But anyway, Kyle, you're so brave! I... I can't believe you finally gave it up, you did it!"

Kyle giggled cutely with embarrassment at all this awesome attention that Stan was giving him, and it filled him with honey covered butterflies to know that Stan was so proud. "It's all thanks to you, Stan... I couldn't have done it if you hadn't been right here, holding my hand and sticking your monster dick up my ass..." He sweatdropped. "But I have to wonder... How _did_ your dick get so big?"

Stan felt suddenly pressured because his dick was like the only thing that brought him security and when it was questioned he couldn't take it. "...I'm beautiful in my way, 'cause God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way."

Kyle teared up at Stan's words, because they were so heartwrenching and they struck him in a very profound way. Suddenly he too felt totally okay with who he was, whether he was black, white, beige, chola descent, whether he was lebanese, or orient. No matter if he was gay, straight, bi, lesbian or transgendered, he was born just the way he motherfucking is so he was proud of it, damn it.

"Stan..." he whispered, truly awestruck. "You just... You just changed my life... I will rejoice and love myself today, and I know that's how you feel too, oh my God this is beautiful..."

"Kyle..." he whispered back, leaning towards his succulent lips that looked a lot like Angelina Jolie's and then he realized that they were almost better if that was possible. "When I see your face... there's not a thing that I would change, 'cause you're amazing just the way you are."

Kyle cried beautiful sweet virginal tears, but except for he wasn't a virgin anymore. Stan just made him that happy that he could revert to the innocence of a virgin and be pure and beautiful for Stan forever. "Oh Stan. Your lips..." he sighed, gazing at Stan's luxurious manly lips. They were parted ever-so-slightly and gloriously, and they looked so fucking kissable that Kyle just wanted to drown in them. "Your lips... I would kiss them all day if you'd let me..." He leaned closer, slowly slowly closing the distance between them.

Stan melted right there in Kyle's arms, and Kyle's kiss was so passionate that it made him feel all light and fluffy like a woman because Kyle had that kind of power and Stan was afraid to admit it. But he lost himself in Kyle's arms and moaned dramatically into his mouth. "Hnnnnggguuuuuuahhhnhh..."

Kyle moaned back because this was the perfect moment and it was all so very hot. "Auuggghhhnnn..." He reached down, feeling suddenly controlling and manly, which was odd because he had never once felt this way before in his life. But Stan suddenly seemed like such a delicate little flower, who had lived such a hard life because his dick was so fucking massive, and Kyle felt it was his duty to make things better. So yeah, he was reaching down, like I said, and he grabbed that massive dick in his dainty little hands (that suddenly seemed rather manly), and began stroking it with all his strength. Stan had probably never had an orgasm given to him by someone else, but that was about to change!

Stan had never felt the incredible sensation from his pants that Kyle was creating because no one other than himself (but even he was scared of his own dick sometimes) gave the massive creature attached to him any love ever. And he was seeing colors flash before his oceanic eyes, there was a whole spectrum of pleasure that Stan had never experienced that was opening up right before him. He moaned so intensely that he thought he was going to break or throw up or something. His hands trembled and pawed for Kyle's controlled mass of ginger ringlets and he latched onto them and drooled in his hair. "AAAUUHNGNJHGHNGNHNNNNN, K-K-K-K-KYY..."

Kyle grinned like the crafty little bitch he was, and he knelt down (making sure Stan still had a hold of his hair, because the poor dear needed something to hang on to, bless him), and he unzipped Stan's pants and shoved them to the floor, and then he began delicately licking at the sides of Stan's massive throbbing dick, like a kitten lapping at milk. Stan's dick was throbbing so forcefully that it kept smacking Kyle in the face, but Kyle really didn't give a shit because it was kind of hot. He had always been kind of turned on at the thought of bitches getting slapped in the face with cocks, and now it was actually happening.

So he kept stroking powerfully, contrasted with the delicate swipes of his little tongue, and he hoped it was as awesome for Stan as it was for him, because he was getting so turned on right now. It was like he was licking a giant lolly pop or something, and he had always fucking loved candy but he couldn't really have it much because of his diabeetus, but now he had this just for himself and it was massive and it'd never go away unless they divorced. But even if they did, he felt pretty certain that he'd still be able to lick Stan's lolly dick on the weekends or something, because Stan was pretty generous like that and would allow it.

Stan was currently in his own fantasy paradise in which he naked was on the shore of an island where his dick wasn't monstrous anymore but still a respectable, manly size, and Kyle was sprawled out in the hot sand and sucking on it like candy, which was kind of like what was actually happening but they were in Kyle's room in their own blood and piss.

Kyle, too, was in a fantasy land. But where Stan's fantasy was comparable to a man cave, Kyle's was WONDERLAND~ It was dark, and they were lying on the grass, and there were little floating colorful lights, and there was soft music playing, coming from the heavens it seemed. And everything was soft colors and satin sheets that they had laid out on the grass so they wouldn't get bugs or dirt on them, and it was beautiful and perfect and pretty much every girl's (and Kyle's, and _maybe_ Butters') fantasy ever.

Stan suddenly found it was even harder to form words because he was just that aroused and he never experienced this in all sixteen years of his life, and he didn't really know what was happening but he like pawed at Kyle's face and was like, "Nnnngjjgggghhhaaahughh," and then his monstrous dick like shot out his man fluids like a fucking cannon and it sounded like gunfire and it hit Kyle in the face with such a force that it knocked him over and Stan's jizz lined every wall in the room. "Oh..."

Kyle was gasping and panting in sweet ecstasy as he lay there on the floor, absolutely covered from head to toe in Stan's sweet man milk. Kyle licked his lips, then his fingers, moving up his arms and his elbows, cleaning off his shoulders and then his collarbone. Once those areas were clean, he sat up and licked his way down his own stomach, pausing to suck at his own dick, which had somehow gotten more covered than everywhere else on his body. He sucked it into his mouth completely because it was small, and easily took it into his throat as he strove to get all of Stan's goodness off of it.

Stan watched in amazement as Kyle lapped up every spot of his man juices off of him and then ended up sucking himself off which was actually kind of arousing because anything Kyle does is arousing, period. He was still kind of lightheaded and in shock from the fucking explosion that launched from his dick but he gathered himself and tripped over to Kyle.

"Hnnnghhhgh..." he mumbled over Kyle all dizzily and kind of swayed like a tropical breeze as Kyle continued to suck his own dick.

"Ahhhhnnngggggghnnn," Kyle responded, and the vibrations shot through his dick making it instantly hard (because it wasn't already, because he was only grooming like the little kitten he is, but now it was _more_), and he bucked up into his own mouth, gagging himself on his own cock. He pulled away and coughed and sputtered all hotly because there was like saliva and stuff dripping down his chin, and basically the more fluids you have all over you, the hotter the situation becomes. TRUFAX, AS THEY'D SAY ON THE INTERNET.

Stan watched and tried not to get hard and hot and bothered again because he'd end up knocking the building down if he had to launch that explosion again, so he sat down next to Kyle all calm and like rubbed the fluids off his face and they left a trail when Stan pulled his hand away and he couldn't take it so he flicked it off and tried to contain himself. "Hnhhfhgh... thank... thank you..."

Kyle laughed because this was suddenly kind of awkward, so he just kind of lifted his hips and pushed them toward Stan, making his dick which was still really hard and spit-slicked visible. "Then thank me..." he purred seductively, and he wondered when he had become such a hot sex kitten, because _damn_ he was turning himself on.

Kyle's purr stimulated everything Stan had inside of him and he was suddenly really turned on again, which he did not want. But he did want Kyle and he grinned seductively and clutched Kyle's tiny dick that was kind of like the size of his fist even when erect and he captured Kyle's mouth with his and tried to pump his hand too but his dick was too small for anything that drastic.

Sensing Stan's predicament (and well, I mean he felt it, too), Kyle groaned into Stan's mouth, "Hnnngauuuhgnn... just squeeze it repeatedly... like one of those little stress relief squeezy balls..." His inner twelve year old laughed at _squeezy balls_, because it was funny. But he meant it super cereal.

Stan obeyed because after all he was secretly a dog when in sex situations so he squeezed Kyle's tiny dick and it like sunk in and came back like those squeezy ball things and Kyle was super cereal. "O-oh, okay..." He breathed, and then continue to make out with his hot mouth again and squeeze him at the same time.

Kyle groaned and moaned and squeaked and purred into Stan's mouth, and it sounded something like "GUHHHHHNNNN GUH GUH PRRRRRRR EEEEEK!" and he kept repeating those noises over and over until his man milk exploded everywhere. But it was less like an explosion and more like a gentle drizzle, like if you poke a hole in the side of a water balloon and give it a good squeeze. Still some power, but not really that awesome. And there was only like a teaspoon or two, maybe. It was a cute orgasm.

Stan giggled- a manly giggle, though- at how adorable Kyle's orgasm was and how he was so little and cute in general, especially in comparison to Stan's massive package. He rubbed his forehead against Kyle's, making some kind of dog-like whimper. "You're so cute, Ky..."

Kyle was still kind of dazed from what, to him, seemed like an earth shattering orgasm. He had never come that hard before in his entire little life. So when he tried to respond, his words blended together and came out in a cute little "Nyaaaahhh..." He giggled at himself, and he nuzzled back against Stan, and they just nuzzled for awhile, and it was precious and perfect.

And then suddenly there was a knock on the door, but it didn't really matter because they just opened the door anyway that they didn't lock, and standing right there was Kyle's fucking genius adopted brother, Ike.

"...What."

**A/N - **HEHEEHEHEHEEHEE THE EVIL LIFF HANGER! REVEW IF U WAN TO KNOW THE HAPPENINGS NEXT!


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